


(Almost) Died In Your Arms

by JustGotThemSharpened



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hanahaki Disease, Kassandra being a smartass, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, You're Welcome, and put the result in the trash, and then pressed 'on', i basically took all the canon events of ac odyssey and put them in a blender, no atlantis ending, stentor is done w/ everyone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-09-13 21:57:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16900560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustGotThemSharpened/pseuds/JustGotThemSharpened
Summary: His lips quirked into a smile when she walked to him, his hand already extending so he could grasp her forearm. It was a familiar gesture, back from when they met in Korinthia so long ago, but no matter how many times they touched, it always sent a thrill up his spine. Their hands were refusing to let go while their eyes always lingered too long, searching, wondering, asking.Is it just me? Do you feel this too, this connection between us?





	1. Beginning - Brasidas

I

 

It started just after he had wished good travels to Kassandra. Despite having reclaimed her rightful home and finally reuniting with her family, the mercenary was always on the move, restless as the waves she rode with her ship, the Adrestia.

 

The sun was setting, Apollo was preparing to surrender the sky to his twin, Artemis. Brasidas was watching Kassandra's crew load the Adrestia with supplies for her next journey. The women worked like a well oiled machine, while Barnabas' strong voice carried into the air as he shouted orders.

 

His gaze shifted, moving to Myrrine and her two children she was currently fussing over with a fond smile on her lips. Kassandra was letting her, a smile just as blinding as her mother's on her full lips, meanwhile, Alexios seemed just a little more hesitant at the attention he was receiving.

 

The misthios eventually realized she was being watched, her eyes had the sweet color of honey, but there was a fierceness behind them. She was a true Spartan just like her mother and grandfather.

 

His lips quirked into a smile when she walked to him, his hand already extending so he could grasp her forearm. It was a familiar gesture, back from when they met in Korinthia so long ago, but no matter how many times they touched, it always sent a thrill up his spine. Their hands were refusing to let go while their eyes always lingered too long, searching, wondering, asking.

 

_Is it just me? Do you feel this too, this connection between us?_

 

“I see you are leaving us again.” He said, instead. He was showing a remarkable cowardice in expressing his thoughts despite being Spartan.

 

“Yes. There is always work for mercenaries. Maybe I'll bring something back for you.” Kassandra smiled, letting go of his arm. He swore he felt her index finger caress his wrist, but the touch had been too fleeting to be sure.

 

“Then I wish you safe travels, my friend.” _Come back to me._ He wished to say, but cowardice forced his words to stop in his throat once again.

 

Soon after, the Adrestia was nothing more than a silhouette against the horizon, Alexios and Myrrine had already retired to their newly restored house and the Spartan officer was the only person left in the port.

 

Brasidas heaved a sigh, feeling remorse at the confessions he had kept to himself. He coughed violently in his hand, realizing with horror that there were no words left unsaid stuck in his throat, but beautiful sword shaped petals.

 

He recognized the flower almost immediately. Gladiolus.

 

II

 

No physician's poultice seemed to cure him of whatever ailed him. The last one just gave a long look at the handful of petals cupped in his palm and shook his head before leaving.

 

“Pray”, he'd said, “for only the gods can help you.”

 

Even drawing the shortest breath had started to hurt, violent coughs would shook his body until his strength completely left him with a hand full of bloodied lilac petals.

 

The news of his sickness spread and soon he was discharged of his duties from the kings. After that he felt...empty. He had trained his whole life to bring glory to Sparta, worked hard day and night until he was recognized and became a pawn into his kings' fingers as the shield and sword of Sparta. Ever the perfect soldier.

 

After Amphipolis he had hoped to settle down for a while, that was true. His close brush with Hades was still vivid in his mind. Some nights, in the privacy of his nightmares he dreamt what could have been if Kassandra hadn't intercepted Alexios's slowly descending _xiphos_ with her own.

 

Brasidas crushed the frail petals in his fist, bitterly thinking that this must have been what Kassandra had felt when she had been thrown down mount Taygetos by her own people.

 

There would be no more glory left, no more golden wreaths to be crowned with. Not for him, at least.

 

He tried to keep up with his training but with his lungs burning with pain from the effort it became harder and harder, until the wooden spear was abandoned in the courtyard just behind his house.

 

It seemed ridiculous to live a soldier's life, facing the possibility of joining his comrades in the underworld every day, only to succumb to an unknown sickness.

 

He thought of Kassandra, her olive skin marred with scars from hard won battles, her sweet eyes carrying the burden of a life's worth of regrets. There is no denying his feelings to the misthios, not to himself, if nothing else.

 

He considered his own regrets, not pulling her closer, wrapping his arms around her and whispering in her ear as she waited to board her ship, begging like a child, _don't leave me. Stay._

 

It was a little too late for that, but he wished, damning Aphrodite for cursing him with love.

 

 


	2. Beginning - Kassandra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Some nights, Alexios talked about the cult, about Chrysis and her teaching methods. She would slip her hand into Alexios' and squeeze hard, providing what little comfort she could while thinking about how satisfying it had been to run Leonidas' spear into that hag's heart._

III

 

The news came out of the blue, the campaign in Achiaia was going exceptionally well, the Athenians were losing more and more territory. Kassandra had been working double time ensuring most of their war supplies and morale were declining substantially.

 

She rested her feet on Stentor's desk, cutting an apple with a knife she had extracted from one of her many hidden pockets and casually eating it.

 

Stentor was not impressed, to say the least. Fixing Kassandra with a blank stare that usually sent recruits scrambling to please him. It did not work on the mercenary.

 

“I would ask you to remove your feet from my desk, but I know it would useless with you.” He said, grabbing a map that was currently under Kassandra's heel and dragging it to safety. She winked at him and cut a piece of apple.

 

“You want some?” She asked, smiling innocently as she held out the apple to him.

 

“In all honesty, I would rather choke.” The general said, spreading the map he had just saved in front of him.

 

Kassandra made a sound of dismay before being interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps approaching. They both turned to the sound, observing an out of breath messenger as he handed out a scroll to the misthios. He saluted the two siblings before making his exit.

 

Kassandra wasn't paying attention. She had recognized her _mater_ 's calligraphy and that alone had been enough to worry her. Myrrine rarely wrote unless it was of absolute importance. Stentor observed as her expression changed drastically, her usual playful smile all but disappeared.

 

“Is something wrong?” He asked, a touch of worry in his voice that he would have denied under the worst of tortures.

 

“Brasidas is sick.” She said, already grabbing her bow in a frenzy and placing it on her back. She hesitated, realizing she couldn't just _leave_. She was in the middle of a job.

 

“I need-” Kassandra's honey colored eyes roamed about the desk full of maps, spies' reports, strategies and, finally, on her younger brother who was looking at her with something akin to concern on his face.

 

“You've helped us more than enough. Achiaia will be ours in a matter of weeks. You are dismissed, misthios. I have no more need of you.” Stentor's steely gaze grounded her and Kassandra smiled at him, nodding and taking her leave.

IV

 

Finding Hippokrates hadn't been easy, but Kassandra was nothing if determined, she had found him in Elis, tending to the ones who had been injured in the Olympics.

 

He didn't need much persuasion, Kassandra's worried face was enough proof of how dire the situation was. His apprentice, a quick study named Castor, was left in charge of the wounded.

 

They docked in the evening, Kassandra was leaping from the Adrestia before the ship had even completely touched the dock.

 

To her great surprise, Alexios was the one waiting for her at the port. He looked worse for wear, the circle under his eyes were deeper and darker, but he seemed happy to see her, if the slight upturn of his lips meant anything.

 

Kassandra took a step toward her brother, she gestured to him, wordlessly asking him if she could hug him. Alexios nodded and Kassandra proceeded to throw her arms around his shoulders, drawing him in.

 

“I'm sorry.” He simply said, holding onto her.

 

Kassandra often had wondered, while she was helping Stentor with the war effort in Achiaia, resting on her bedroll alone, who Alexios had turned to for his nightmares.

 

They usually found themselves at the small table in the Agiad household, both too shaken to consider going back to sleep and ghosts lingering on their minds, so vivid they were scared they could see them in the shadows of the house as they nursed cup of wines and talked about everything and nothing.

 

Myrrine was too much of a stranger to them still to be a confidante, Nikolaos had soon disappeared again. They only had one another, simple as that.

 

Some nights, Alexios talked about the cult, about Chrysis and her _teaching_ _methods_. She would slip her hand into Alexios' and squeeze hard, providing what little comfort she could while thinking about how satisfying it had been to run Leonidas' spear into that hag's heart.

 

They passed Brasidas' house on the way home, Kassandra's protests to stop went unnoticed as Alexios shook his head and merely grabbed her reins, spurring Phobos to keep moving.

 

“ _Mater_ wants to see you first. She's waiting.” he merely explained.

 

And she is. Her proud posture immediately falling away as she saw her children, her tiny, strong hands clasping Kassandra's, but her daughter's gaze is drawn to somewhere else.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for still being here if you are! As always, you can find me on tumblr @hanzohoemada or on @wlwmisthios, my AC account. :3

**Author's Note:**

>  **Hanahaki Disease:** fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their romantic feelings, or when the victim dies.  
>  **Gladiolus:** infatuation, telling the receiver that they pierce the heart. It also stands for strength of character, faithfulness and honor.
> 
> Hello! Thank you for joining me on this journey :) you can find me on tumblr @hanzohoemada!


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